I Love You
by 100-percent-Harry-Potter-obsessed
Summary: Angelina is beyond angry with her boyfriend. AJFW. Oneshot. Complete.


**Had to get this out of my head before it exploded! That's one idea down…a gazillion to go...Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:**** You recognize it, I don't own it. End of discussion.

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**I Love You**

Fred and I have been dating for 1 entire year. Yes, you heard me correctly.

I think _I_ was actually Fred's first real commitment, and I guess he's happy because he's certainly stuck around!

Believe it or not, Fred first asked me out to the Yule Ball in our sixth year, and we've been going out ever since.

Fred can be so sweet at times. He snuck me into Honeyduke's on my birthday, just to get my favorite Sugar Quills when everyone else had forgotten that they were the only thing I'd _really_ wanted for my birthday.

And on Valentine's Day, Fred cast a spell so that every time I stepped into a classroom a bouquet of roses appeared in various places of the room.

Haha, I can still remember the look on Snape's face when a bouquet of yellow roses popped up in his, at the time, empty cauldron.

Scared the crap out of him, that did.

Now, _I_ am _not_ usually one to complain.

Katie? She's a whole other story. **(A/N Literally.) **Alicia? If she's stressed out, then possibly… But me? Hardly ever.

So, why am _I_ in my current state, you might ask? I didn't think it was possible, but I'm beginning to be a bit depressed.

You see, last Saturday, I told Fred that I loved him.

Yes, again, you've heard me correctly. I, Angelina Marie Johnson, am in love with one Frederick Septimus Weasley and thought that it was high time that I'd told him so.

My problem, you ask? My pig-headed, moronic idiot, bloody fool of a boyfriend laughed and said, "Ditto."

I nearly cried. _Ditto?_ How could he be so – so taunting at a time like that? I was being deathly serious!

I decided to let that little incident slip, so I, being the persistent person I am, tried yet again to have my boyfriend repeat these words back to me.

On Wednesday, as I left the Great Hall after lunch, to go to Transfiguration, I gave Fred a quick peck on the cheek and murmured, "Love you…"

Fred smiled, yet again, and said, "Me too." He set off down the opposite corridor with his twin.

I stalked away, furious, my books in my arms. He was absolutely incorrigible! How could he be so ignorant?

All I ask was that he says those 'three little words', as most girls put it.

It was then that it hit me. What if – if Fred _didn't_ love me? That he was avoiding telling me as to not hurt my feelings?

I slid down against a corridor wall, as these thoughts rushed across my mind. My bag slid from my shoulder, and my books lay forgotten.

That seemed like the only _reasonable _explanation. Didn't it?

I was so confused.

I sat there silently for quite a few minutes, thinking. Finally, I set my mind in one direction, and made up my mind.

There was only one way to solve this. I was going to have to stop the pain by doing it the only way I knew how.

I was going to have to break up with Fred…

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This morning, as I stepped into the Great Hall, I looked at the floor determinedly and calmly walked over the Gryffindor table.

Fred was already there, and by the looks of it, he had saved me a seat. However, I looked away and sat down toward the other end of the table, near Oliver.

I stared down at my plate as I peeled a fresh orange. As I put a piece of the fruit into my mouth, I looked down the table.

To my surprise, Fred wasn't engaged in a deep conversation or even stuffing his face like the absolute pig he was.

He was gazing directly at me, concern etched into his handsome features. I sighed. The fruit in my mouth suddenly tasted sour.

He mouthed at me, 'Are you okay?'

I merely looked away, as I felt tears begin to prick at my eyes. I knew I had to do it today, but it was going to be extremely hard on me.

This much, I knew.

…I couldn't do it. Not here. Not now.

I sauntered out of the Great Hall a few moments later, and brushed away the few tears threatening to spill out of my dark eyes. I had to be strong.

I headed toward the Charm's corridor and was about to make a right turn when –

"Ange?"

I whipped around to see, who else, but Fred there. My face became monotone.

"Yeah?" I asked in a flat voice.

He looked a bit frightened at my lack of any emotion, but said, "Are you alright?"

I sighed for the second time that morning. "No. Fred – I – I think that we should break up."

A ringing silence was met by the end of my comment.

It didn't appear as if he were going to say anything, so slowly, I turned to continue on my way to class when I strong force snatched my hand.

I was turned quickly, only to find myself facing a now livid Fred Weasley.

"So, that's it?" he asked angrily. "You're not even going to let me have a say in it? _What the bloody heck is going on, Angelina?"_

However, I never got to answer him because he just continued with his rant.

"I mean, you've been acting strangely all week. You seem just – I dunno – disappointed in me or something. What exactly do you want me to do about it? And –"

I silenced him by holding up my left hand, seeing as he still had a hold on my right one.

I couldn't help it this time. A lone tear slowly made its way down my cheek.

Fred immediately seized everything and brushed away my tear, almost reflexively. I looked down again, my breath ragged.

"Just tell me what's wrong, Ange…," he mumbled quietly, tilting my chin to look up at him.

"I just…why…," I tried to string some coherent words together, but I was getting lost in his eyes. I managed, after much difficulty to snap out of it. I looked back down.

"Why don't you love me?" I said my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked so stunned I don't think that words could describe it.

"I do love you!" he said. My head snapped up to meet his gaze.

"Then _why_ couldn't you tell me before?" I snapped at him, suddenly fuming.

"Because I was afraid…"

"Afraid of _what_?"

"That everything would become awkward around us. Some things are just better left unsaid…"

"Well, Fred Weasley. I don't care _what_ you think," I said, suddenly playful.

"Is that so?"

"Yep."

He crossed his arms rather childishly. I couldn't help but laugh.

"But I _do_ know that I love you…"

"I love you too, Ange. I love you, too…"

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